Sins of a Father

  Literary Short Story

  I quickly paced through a quiet alley in Hastings, a fairly large city in Britain. My shabby, filthy clothes swayed loosely off my thin, bony body. I wasn’t sure how I had ended up here; I just woke up lying on the ground out in the country and somehow made it here. The only things I had were my rags and a small brass amulet, which meant everything to me. I’ve found it easier living here than there, as there is always food and shelter is fairly easy to find. I have no family, or pretty much anyone that I was close too. With that, I don’t even know my name. On the day I entered this place, an old woman mistook me for her son and called me Wallace, and I adopted the name as my own.

  Life has not been fortunate to me, however, as I have a grueling deformity on my face, and I wear a low hood in order to conceal it. Where this deformity came from, I do not know, but I have red, scaly skin and an abnormally large eye on the left side of my face. I have been shunned and forced to live here, as people won’t let me show my face. I am taunted daily by people calling me a ‘monster’ and other darker words, and I’ve learned to live with it. When I first came, the taunts were harsh and hurt me deeply, knowing nobody accepted me for my physical appearance, but I was a child then. As time grew, they no longer hurt me, though their volume and numbers seemed to increase day by day. This alley that I walk through is practically my own, apparently no one wants to venture where I walk, which is helpful for me. It has a nasty smell of sewage. As I look at myself, I’m ashamed that these conditions are what I consider normal, but there is little I could do. They have guards nearby so I don’t do anything, but I don’t see why they consider me as a threat. I’m just as human as they are, and not as mad as most of them.

  I heard my stomach start to growl and wondered when dinner was coming. It was a little later than usual, which was why I began to pace. As a few minutes ticked by, I heard one of the back doors open and a man hastily put a trash bag outside. As he went back inside, I quickly hurried over, wondering what there was to eat tonight. I scavenged the smelly, fly-infested bag carefully and searched for food within its depths. I took out several broken pieces of bread, some vegetables, and a few pieces of discolored meat. Most of it was covered in mixed sauces, but I had been eating like this for a long time and it no longer bothered me. I placed it on one of my dirty plates and quickly devoured the makeshift meal. I picked up the bag and placed it in the dumpster at the end of the alley.

  The restaurant owner paid me several coins to take out his garbage since no one else wanted to venture where I was. He was more generous and kind than others, but he was still very strict, for he never wanted me in view of his customers. I was simply to take out the trash for a little change, and for food, and that would be all. I went back and scooped up three small coins that had been slipped through and put them in a small burlap bag I used to hold my money. Nearly a hundred coins now jingled around, but I had no idea how much it was worth. I could feel it getting cooler as the sun escaped my view behind a building. I shooed a fat, ugly rat away before I lied down in the little tent I had set up against the wall. I felt quite tired, and it didn’t take long for me to fall asleep.

  2 Years Later…

  I opened my eyes to the bright morning sun, and I felt a breeze of the chilly autumn air. I wasn’t sure how old I was, but it’s been three years since I woke up out in the country. The restaurant owner assumed I was in my teens, but he and I really have no clue how old I am. I changed a lot over the years; I am now tall, strong, and muscular, though I don’t know how. My diet of old bread and rotten leftovers hasn’t really changed much.

  The owner actually had to get me some new clothes since I had out grown the rags I wore before, and that’s what I wore now. I would have gotten them myself if the other shopkeepers would let me buy something from them, but their rules haven’t really changed. What he got me was just a pretty simple hooded tunic and slacks, but it was a whole lot better than my old, smelly rags. It had become a lot quieter here over the years, several shops have shut down, and few come to taunt me anymore. I crawled up out of my small sheets, brushing a large rat away, and looked around. It was quiet this morning; I heard no clopping horse hooves or the chatter of the people in the square. I looked next to my sheet and saw my moneybag, now nearly full, but I had little to do with it. No other shopkeepers would even let me near their stores, so I just kept it in case I ever did need it. A faint scent of pie was in the air, above the usual filthy smell of sewage, and I suddenly felt hungry as I savored for something I’d never have. I turned away from the smell as I pulled out my concealed amulet, putting it on. I gazed at the oddly clean surface and saw my face. It was my only hope for someone to recognize me, and for me to leave this hell.

  I put my hood on as I walked down the street. I carefully walked through the back alleys to avoid being yelled at by the shopkeepers as I saw some signs that read, ‘No Monsters Allowed’. It saddened me that the people here still had such anger and hatred in their hearts though they didn’t know me at all. But, alas, it was what I had become used to over the years. It was still quiet in the town, and I continued my walk. As I turned a corner though, I bumped into a small child. Before I could apologize, he looked at my face and screamed before running back the way he came. I sighed, but understood. He was a child and didn’t know any better, but now that I think of it, they all act the same.

  I shortly returned back to my little tent in the alley and sat down as I waited for breakfast. After a few minutes passed, I started to hear a growing commotion in the square. I ignored it at first, but as it grew, I decided to go take a look. I stood and moved a little further up the alley as I saw at least a few dozen people crowding about in the square, many holding small tools. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but I noticed the small child in the center of the crowd. As I took a few steps forward, he pointed at me and started to cry out something. The others started to move towards me before breaking into an angry mob, all screaming savagely as the started to run frenziedly towards me.

  I was confused at this, but I quickly worked the puzzle together. Perhaps my encounter with that child in the alley made him make a wild story about me, perhaps attacking him, and now the people had risen in revolt. The story would have been less believable if it hadn’t been me, but their prejudice and hate now had a reason to harm me. I couldn’t believe the irrationality and unfairness of this, but I knew I would have to flee as a stone the size of a fist whizzed past my head. I knew nobody would help me here.

  I started to run towards the one place that could bring me safety now, and that was the country. I quickly ran, not caring to take my money, as I headed through the narrow alleys. In this, I had great success as I took a winding path through the city that they could not easily follow, all due to them isolating me. I knew the back alleys of Hastings better than the men who built them, and it was not long until I ran out the front gates. A guard shouted at me to stop and I heard him fire his musket, which missed narrowly.

  I had eventually made it to a forest near the city and ran for nearly an hour before I convinced myself I was safe and collapsed near a small stream. I had evaded death twice today, one by skill and one by luck, and I was grateful for that. Now though, I was unsure of what to do. It seemed my own kind thought of me now as an enemy, and I had no friends to go to, nowhere to be safe. I drank from the stream once I caught my breath and washed my face off, trying to think. My mind was disoriented by today’s events, and I lied down on a makeshift bed I had made of leaves. As I struggled to find a way to sleep, I felt a sudden pain I had never felt in the city. I felt alone, like a child in the dark.

  When I woke up, the sun was almost down. My sleep helped restore my thought, and I began to focus on what to do. I could live by this stream with a constant supply of water; all I needed to do was find food. I could suddenly hear something in the forest, the shuffling of feet. I could see the faint lights of lanterns and realized that the townspeople were hunting
me down. I turned tail and started to run again, deeper into the forest. I ran for only a few minutes until I reached a sudden cliff overlooking the sea, extending miles both ways. I could hear the people following me with shouts, and I suddenly saw a structure far along the cliffs to my right. A thin spire with a single golden light stood against the darkening gloom of the setting sun, and I made up my mind to head there. I ran along the jagged rocks, which looked like a gaping jaw, keeping my step as I reached the place with little time. I hesitantly knocked on the door. I was putting my life into their hands now, and I only hoped that fortune would smile upon me on this horrid day.

  As the door opened, a tall, well-dressed man stood in the open archway. He had graying hair and dark blue eyes that seemed to pierce deep within me. He had a frown on his face, and I felt he knew what I would say as I asked desperately, “I need to hide, please, these people are hunting me down because of how I am.”

  “Come in my poor boy, we shall discuss this inside,” he replied quickly.

  He let me inside his house, though a mansion would properly address it. A white marble staircase shot out of the tiled floor as a glass chandelier was attached to the ceiling. I could smell a faint incense in the air, giving a peaceful, soothing sensation. He led me to some chairs near a fireplace, and I sat down as he and I talked about the situation. He understood and said I could live here and work as a servant, and I also learned about him. His name was Edmund, and he lived here alone with his daughter Ruth, who happened to be blind from a disease. He only asked if he might study my deformity and see if he could find out what was wrong with me. He told me he was a scientist and might be able to help me in the future. I then met Ruth and talked with her. She was tall as well and her eyes were cloudy like something was covering them up, which looked strange, but I had no room to talk. It felt odd talking to other people, for I never had anyone I could talk to. She was very nice and she was one of the first people that couldn’t judge me for how I looked. I didn’t feel alone anymore.

  Edmund let me take a bath and get fresh clothes before taking me to the basement. He was going to take a look at my deformity tomorrow and I quickly fell asleep on the comfortable straw bed. The next morning, I woke up and headed to the dining room. Edmund and Ruth were already eating and a maid handed me a plate as I took a seat. It was some eggs and bacon, which smelled delicious, and I ate it as fast as a starving dog. After I finished, Edmund said he would be out for a few hours and just to relax here. I talked with Ruth and asked her a lot of things about her life. I never knew there were people like this, who lived in mansions while there were the less fortunate like me in the alleys of Hastings, with only sheets for beds. We both shared the same curiosity of why it was so, why no one would help people like me or just shun us away from society. It is an odd side of man, to help himself over others. She also told me why she had no mother, she had died a long time ago, but Edmund never told her why. They were the last people alive of their once powerful family.

  Edmund came home shortly after our conversation ended, and he showed me how to work around the house. I was just to help Ruth around the house and keep her company as he worked in the city, which was fine with me. As days passed, I began to like Ruth a lot. She was the one person that could not see me for how I looked, but for how I am. It seemed more like she was the only human who could see while all the others were blind fools that wandered in the dark. I was starting to feel a gap fill that had been in me for such a long time and that I had long thought vanished, a heart.

  After nearly a week had passed, Edmund came home after finishing his work in the city. Today though, something was different. He looked troubled, even worried, and before I could speak, he said, “They’re starting to look for you, all over the country. They’ve even put up a bounty for your body, and it’s becoming dangerous for me there.”

  I could see this wasn’t going to end well. I couldn’t stay here much longer, or else I’d risk these people’s lives. I wasn’t that evil of a man, a monster. I would have to flee to another country if I’d ever want peace, and even than it would be difficult. Suddenly, someone started pounding on the door. “We know that you’re housing a refuge, give him up or we’ll have to arrest you as well. Now open the door!”

  Wallace assumed the men followed Edmund from Hastings. He would not sacrifice these people’s lives to save himself, for he was no monster. He was a man. He opened the door, letting the men drag him to the city, beating him along the way. Several days later, Edmund opened a letter from a stranger that contained an article that read, “Hastings’s ‘Monster’ Disappears into Ocean”. Within its depths he also found a brass amulet, the surface now gray-green, and a note that read, ‘Thank You’. Than Edmund wept madly, for he had given up his own blood, making him more a monster than his son.

  Analysis:

  Many are treated differently due to deformities and other unique factors. The 18th century was no exception: in fact, many disabled or deformed people had little protection against abuses. I wanted to show the struggles of some of these people through this story, and how even brilliant people due to the negative actions and perspectives of others hinder us all as a society. And yes, Edmund gave away his own son to the authorities.